Lord Jim

Lord Jim
by Joseph Conrad
read: 2013
Modern Library #85, Guardian 1000 Novels

The story of Lord Jim is told largely through a frame story, with Charles Marlow, an alter-ego of Conrad that appears in a few of his works, relating the tale of the titular character in person and, towards the end of the book, in a letter. Many works - Absalom, Absalom!, for one - employ the frame story as a narrative technique. Since the frame story embeds the main narrative as a story within a story, it often becomes a meditation on storytelling itself, prompting the reader to ask questions like, "Who is narrating? Why is he telling the story? What is he leaving out (by ignorance or intentionally) that might be germane?"

Marlow's narration consumes the first 80% or so of the story, at which point he has told the story as far as he knows at the time. At this point, Conrad seems to offer a meditation on unfinished stories:

... the last image of that incomplete story, its incompleteness itself, and the very tone of the speaker, had made discussion in vain and comment impossible. Each of them seemed to carry away his own impression, to carry it away with him like a secret ...  

Conrad then offers a take on the phenomenon of writing and reading:

That was all then - and there will be nothing more; there will be no message, unless such as each of us can interpret for himself from the language of facts, that are so often more enigmatic than the craftiest arrangement of words.

Marlow then proceeds to grace one particular listener (and, by extension, the reader) with the remainder of the tale via letter. This closes the loop on the main narrative and makes for a more satisfying story. Does it take away from the meta-fictional musings quoted above? Maybe philosophically, but I think they stand on their own.

In Cold Blood

In Cold Blood
by Truman Capote
read: circa 2007

I link In Cold Blood and The Executioner's Song in my mind. In both books you have a murder as the central act, with the resulting investigation, trial, and execution rippling out from that death. Both are non-fiction books but written like novels. And both show the killers in somewhat of a sympathetic light. Neither Capote nor Mailer exonerates the murderer, but both show some of the factors that led them to that place and the humanity they display in facing their deaths.

The sympathy is especially interesting in In Cold Blood, as the murders were committed by a duo - Dick Hickock, the mastermind of the operation, and Perry Smith, who actually slaughtered the Clutters. Hickock doesn't have the stomach to kill himself, so he finds Smith, a murderer, because he knows he needs a killer to pull off the robbery. Smith isn't insane by the legal definition, but he's clearly mentally disturbed, even sociopathic. He has a disturbed sense of honor - he bars Hickock from raping Nancy Clutter, yet shoots her in the head minutes later. Capote ultimately paints Hickock, not Smith, as the real monster.

Breakfast at Tiffany's

Breakfast at Tiffany's
by Truman Capote
read: circa 2007
Guardian 1000 Novels

I hadn't met my now-wife when I read Breakfast at Tiffany's, and, being single, I saw the relationship between Holly Golightly and "Fred," the narrator, as an unrequited romantic interest rather than a platonic relationship. That's also the tack the movie takes, but of course they had to go and Hollywood-ize the ending and ruin it. The film also features one of the most racist movie performances ever by Andy Rooney. I adored Breakfast at Tiffany's, and I'm kind of afraid to re-read it knowing that most critics believe Fred, like Capote himself, was gay, and so the whole lens through which I saw the story was wrong.

The Sheltering Sky

The Sheltering Sky
by Paul Bowles
read: 2013
Time 100 Novels, Modern Library #97, Guardian 1000 Novels

There are books I go into with knowledge and expectations, and books when I have no idea what they're about. The Sheltering Sky is one of the latter, and even after reading it I'm not quite sure what to make of the novel. Is it a cautionary tale about the dangers of Westerners (Americans Port and Kit Moseby and their friend Tunner) exploring a world they don't understand (the Sahara)? Is it the story of the Mosebys trying to repair their marriage? There are so many themes here - mortality, fidelity, depression, exploration, civilization - that it's really hard to put this novel in a neat box.

Kit's journey over the last quarter or so of the book is particularly interesting and enigmatic. Is it a sign of what a human being is capable of under stress? A dark reaction to tragedy? A meditation on the role of women in society? Is it damning or appreciative of the North African world? What do her various romantic entanglements suggest when seen through a feminist lens? How do her actions relate to the omens she perceives in her depressive states earlier in the book?

One interesting aspect of Kit's story arc is the role of language in forming consciousness, as epitomized by the following passage:

In another minute life would be painful. The words were coming back, and inside the wrappings of the words there would be thoughts lying there. The hot sun would shrivel them; they must be kept inside in the dark.

Kit has found herself in a reality she is not willing to face, and by latching on with a nomadic group she does not have to face it. She falls in love (or thinks she does) with Belqassim despite being unable to communicate with him; maybe it's because she cannot communicate with him. She can turn off the language center in her brain, and by doing so avoid thinking about the tragedy that has befallen her and the desperation of her situation. Can a person really turn off her brain by eliminating words and language? I don't know, but it's a fascinating section of the novel.

Native Son

Native Son
by Richard Wright
read: 2013
Time 100 Novels, Modern Library #20, Guardian 1000 Novels


It's hard for me, a white, middle-class man who group up largely with other white, middle-class people, to understand a character like Bigger Thomas, the protagonist of Richard Wright's Native Son. Bigger lives in a studio apartment with his mother, brother, sister, and, in the opening scene, a rather large rat. His life choices pretty much boil down to a life of petty crime or one of menial labor. Only when Bigger accidentally murders a white girl does a third option present itself.

Native Son is aware of the psychological factors that lead to the creation of Bigger and those like him. An early scene at the pool room highlights Bigger's mental state. To his friends, Bigger looks like a tough, a bully, a loose cannon - but underpinning his outward machismo is fear. He knows he can't back out of the robbery he planned, but he's terrified to go through with it, so he picks a fight with one of his friends to sabotage the plan. He lives in a constant state of fear, but cannot at any time admit that he is afraid. Ultimately, this same fear leads him to commit two murders.

The sociological factors loom even larger than the psychological ones, though. Bigger's fear does not come from nowhere, nor it unique to him. It is constantly reinforced through his interactions with white people, both seen and unseen. He lives in a crowded, overpriced apartment while apartments elsewhere in the city remain vacant, because the real estate moguls will only rent to African-Americans in the "black belt." He robs blacks but knows the penalties will be much more severe for robbing whites. He knows being alone with a white girl is grounds for accusations of rape. Even the kindness shown him by two liberal communists just reinforces the wall between Bigger and the white world:

[T]hey made him feel his black skin by just standing there looking at him, one holding his hand and the other smiling. He felt he had no physical existence at all right then; he was something he hated, the badge of shame which he knew was attached to a black skin. It was a shadowy region, a No Man's Land, the ground that separated the white world from the black that he stood upon.

The sociological factors are summed up in lawyer Boris Max' long, didactic monologue late in the book.

I see a lot of parallels between Native Son and Theodore Dreiser's An American Tragedy. The plots mirror each other, and both Dreiser and Wright are much more concerned about what motivated the crime than the crime itself, and what those motivations say about society in general. It wasn't surprising to learn that Wright was a fan of Dreiser and the school of naturalism. Wright carefully avoids absolving Bigger for his actions, but neither does he hold society blameless. Native Son arguably is as significant a sociological text as it is a literary one.

To Kill a Mockingbird

To Kill a Mockingbird
by Harper Lee
read: circa 2007
Time 100 Novels, Guardian 1000 Novels, Pulitzer Prize

Goodreads rates To Kill a Mockingbird in as the #1 book assigned to high school students, but my teachers never assigned it to me. I did read it a few years ago. I remember liking it, but this is definitely one I'll have to re-read at some point. Maybe the high school will assign it to my son someday.

A Storm of Swords

A Storm of Swords
by George R.R. Martin
A Song of Ice and Fire, Book 3
read: 2013

Damn. What a bloodbath.